Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

ADRIEN’S POV

SEVEN YEARS AGO...

The cool glass vial rests heavy against the skin of my palm, trapped deep inside the right pocket of my uniform trousers.

My thumb moves back and forth over the seamless glass surface, tracing the tiny rubber stopper at the top over and over again until my flesh feels numb from the constant friction.

It’s like a stress ball which causes more stress than it takes away.

I can feel the coldness of the liquid inside. It is watery, murky, and definitely lethal.

My stepmother, Alice, had pressed it into my hand in the dark, suffocating study belonging to my father. Her grip had been so tight that her manicured nails left crescent-shaped red marks on my skin that took two days to fade.

Beside her, my father, Henri, had stood like a towering shadow, his heavy hand pressing down on my shoulder until my collarbone burned, his voice dropping into a harsh, warning whisper that left no room for question or argument.

They told me what to do. They told me how to do it. They expect me to slip this nameless, odorless venom into Orion’s glass before this week-long retreat comes to an end.

Sitting across from me on a fallen, rot-eaten oak log, my best friend, Timothy, keeps talking. His voice is loud and sharp, cutting through the quiet rustle of the surrounding pine trees like a dull saw.

"They think they own every single inch of this city," Timothy snarls, his face flushed a dark, angry red as he violently kicks a loose pile of dry, fallen leaves into the brush. "They act like the rest of us are just dirt stuck to the bottom of their expensive leather boots. My sister did not do a single thing wrong, Adrien. Not one damn thing."

I stare down at the damp patch of soil sitting between my boots, my thumb continuing its endless, rhythmic back-and-forth motion against the glass stopper in my pocket.

I give him a slow, non-committal shrug of my shoulders, offering a subtle nod of assent.

"She just wanted to go to dinner," Timothy presses on, his knuckles turning stark white as he clenches his fists tightly against his knees. "She asked Orion out like any normal girl in this school would. And what happened? Louise destroyed her life before she was even officially dating him."

"Louise made sure my sister got stripped of her academic scholarship, dragged her name through the mud in front of the whole academy, and made her so terrified that she barely leaves her bedroom anymore. She cries every single time a car drives past our house! And Orion just stood there and let it happen. He probably sat back and enjoyed every second of it."

"Yeah," I murmur quietly, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

I guess your sister isn’t going to be the only one who’s going to end up in deep shit.

Timothy keeps spewing venom and vitriol at Orion and Louise, his voice growing higher and more desperate with every second that passes.

He calls them monsters. He calls them selfish, cruel, spoiled bastards who deserve to be dragged into the street and stripped of everything they have ever owned.

I nod along with his harsh words because I have to. I have no choice. I cannot let Timothy see what is actually happening inside my head.

Timothy must never find out that two months ago, hidden behind the tall metal supply racks of the academy janitor’s locker, Orion backed me against the wall and kissed me until my heart nearly hammered its way through my ribs.

He must never find out that the lines between my intense hatred for Orion and whatever this terrifying new feeling is have begun to blur into something I cannot even name.

We are currently at a week-long retreat sponsored by the academy for our entire second-year class.

The school administration booked out a massive, sprawling resort nestled deep within the mountain woods, complete with natural hot springs, private luxury cabins, and miles of dense forest where wild deer and birds roam freely around the fenced perimeters. It is supposed to be a relaxing getaway for the wealthy heirs of the city to bond before the upper-class exams begin.

Instead, it feels like a wide-open prison.

I have been doing my best to avoid everyone and everything since the buses dropped us off at the main gates, especially Orion.

There are far too many chaotic, conflicting thoughts racing through my mind at once. The searing memory of Orion’s mouth pressed against mine in that dark janitor’s locker, the heavy glass vial resting against my thigh, and the mounting, suffocating dread of what I’m actually supposed to do with it.

Am I really going to do this? Am I really going to poison him?

How would I even pull it off without getting caught immediately? If I actually go through with it and slip this weird liquid into his water, what becomes of me afterward?

My father and Alice will probably throw me to the wolves the very second Orion’s heart stops beating to keep their own hands clean.

But if I refuse to do it, if I pull this vial out and dump its contents into the dirt, what will Henri do to me when we return home?

He’ll fucking kill me. That’s what he’ll do.

And then there are the traitorous, terrifying thoughts that creep into my mind when I lie awake in the dark. What exactly happens to Orion when this liquid hits his bloodstream?

Does it burn his organs from the inside out? Does he bleed from his eyes? Does the arrogant, untouchable golden boy of the Vassilis family end up gasping for air on a cold floor while his blood turns to ice?

Will he feel pain like the rest of us?

Everything feels wrong, and nothing feels right. I’m trapped in a maze with no exits, and I don’t know what to do.

"I swear, if I ever get the chance, I’ll break Orion’s neck myself," Timothy spits, kicking another heavy stick deep into the brush. He pauses, leaning forward and looking over at me, his sharp blue eyes searching my dull, unreadable face.

His heavy breathing slows down as he studies my quiet, rigid posture. "Hey. Adrien. Are you okay? You look like a ghost."

I force a quick, empty smile onto my face, pulling my hand out of my trouser pocket and resting it flat on my lap. "I am fine. Just tired from the bus ride."

Timothy frowns, his eyes softening with genuine concern. "You missed a day of school last week right before we boarded the buses for this retreat. I know why you were missing, Adrien. Did your father do it again? Did he hit you again?"

My throat tightens instantly, the dry mountain air sticking in my lungs like glue.